A YEMAN hadde he, and servantes no mo And he was cladde in cote and hode of grene; A not-hed had he, with a broune visàge: Ther was also a Nonne, a PRIORESSE, It pleased the Knight to have no servant with him on this occasion but a YEOMAN. He was dressed in a green coat and hood, and had a sheaf stuck in his belt full of arrows with peacock feathers. Bright and keen were they. He had a right yeomanly hand at such tackle. His arrows never looked as if they were moulting. And in his hand he carried a mighty bow. His head was shaped like a nut, and his face sunburnt. He knew all about woods. His arm was defended by a showy bracer; he had a sword and buckler on one side; a fine dagger on the other, in capital condition; a bright silver image of St. Christopher on his breast; and he wore a horn by a green belt. A proper forester was he, you might be certain. There was also a nun among us, a PRIORESS, who was very careful how she smiled, and did it with wonderful simplicity. Her strongest affirmation was by St. Elias. They called her Madame Eglantine. She sang divine service in the sweetest of nasal tones; and spoke French to a nicety, after the fashion of the school of Stratford-at-Bow; for she didn't know Paris French. She was so well brought up, that she never let anything Ne wette hire fingres in hire sauce depe; In curtesie was sette full moche hire lest : That in hire cuppe was no ferthing sene Of grese when she dronken hadde hire draught; But for to speken of hire conscience, Hire mouth full smale and thereto soft and red. It was almost a spanně brode, I trowe, slip out of her mouth at table, nor wetted her fingers with the sauce. Admirably could she achieve the morsel. Not a particle of it fell on her bosom. She delighted to show her good breeding. She was particularly careful in wiping her lips before she drank; and took up her meat in a style the most decorous. To say the truth, she was an amiable creature, full of goodwill to everybody; and it cost her a great deal of trouble to give herself the airs of her condition, and obtain people's reverence. As to her conscience, she was so full of tenderness and charity, that she would weep if she saw a mouse hurt in a trap. She kept delicate little hounds, which she fed with milk, roast meat, and fancy-bread; and sorely did she lament when any one of them died, or if anybody struck it. She was all conscience and tender heart. Her neckerchief was plaited in the nicest manner. She had a delicate straight nose, eyes of a clear grey, a small, soft, red mouth, and a handsone forehead. I think it must have been a span broad. In truth she was no way stinted in her growth. Ful fetise was hire cloke, as I was ware. Another NONNE also with hire hadde she Ful many a deintě hors hadde he in stable, The reule of Seint Maure and of Seint Beneit, This is to say, a monk out of his cloistre ; And I say his opinion was good. What shulde he studie and make himselven wood, The cloak she wore was extremely well cut. She had a chaplet of coral beads about her arm, ornamented with green; and to the chaplet was appended a fine gold trinket made into a crowned letter A, with the device, Amor vincit omnia. She had a NUN with her, who was her chaplain; and three PRIESTS. A MONK may come next, a masterly specimen of his order; a lover of hunting, always foremost of the horsemen; a manly man, fit to be an abbot. Many a dainty horse had he in his stable; and when he was on the road, men might hear his bridle jingling in the wind as loud and clear as the chapel bell. He had no great regard, this Monk, for the rules of Saint Maur and Saint Benedict. He thought them old and too particular; and he was for letting old things go their ways, and taking after the new. The notion that sportsmen are no saints, he valued no more than a plucked hen; and he set as little store by the saying, that a monk out of his cell is like a fish out of water. He swallowed it as easily as he would an oyster. And in my opinion he was right. Why should a man study, and turn his Upon a book in cloistre alway to pore, Or swinken with his hondes, and labòure, I saw his sleves purfiled at the hond A limitour, a ful solempně man: 10 In all the ordres foure is non that can in a cloister, and How is the world brains, and be always poring over a book, mewed up lavor and toil with his hands, because Austin bade him? to be served at that rate? Let Austin be accommodated with as much labor as he pleases. Our monk preferred good riding. He had a pack of greyhounds as swift as birds, and cared for nothing but horses and the chase. It was no matter what they cost him. I beheld with my own eyes his sleeves bordered with fur, and that too the finest in the land. To fasten his hood under the chin he had a gold pin, curiously wrought into a love-knot. His head was bald, and shone as if it had been glazed. So did his face, as if it had been anointed. He was a glorious jolly personage. There was not a point about him but was perfect. His eyes were sunk in fat, and his head smoked like a furnace. His boots were supple, his horse in the highest condition: in short, he was the model of a dignified clergyman. He was no ghost of a man, pale and wasted away. The dish he loved best was a fat swan. His ralfrey was as brown as a berry. A FRIAR was there too, a very facetious fellow; wonderfully solema withal. He was one of the friars that are licensed to beg. In all the So moche of dalïance and fayre langage: For he had power of confession, Four Orders he had not his match for an affectionate approach and wheed. ling speeches. He had read the marriage-service to heaps of young women for nothing. He was an amazing support to his order; quite a pillar. There was not a rich farmer in his county with whom he was not a favorite. And as much might be said of the good women in the towns: for (as he used to observe) he had license to hear confession wherever he pleased, and was not confined to one spot like a poor curate. Sweet was his mode of hearing confession, and pleasant was his absolution. He was an easy man at ordering penance, where he expected a just return; for he was of opinion, that to give handsomely to the poor friars was a sign that a man had confessed to some purpose. He would grow quite exalted on this point, and swear that such a man must be a true penitent: for (argued he) weeping proves nothing; a man may be very sorry, yet not able to weep; therefore the way to make his repentance manifest is neither to weep nor pray, but to come down with his money to the poor friars. His tippet was always stuffed full of knives and pins, to give to pretty women. It is astonishing what a pleasant tongue he had. He could sing |